


Equals

by ReaderRose



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Angst, Character Study, Flowey Era, Gen, POV Second Person, Papyrus Knows More Than He Lets On, Sans Knows Less Than He Lets On, Sans Remembers Resets, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8579695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderRose/pseuds/ReaderRose
Summary: You do your best to pretend that Papyrus can't change. That he hasn't.You might be being unfair.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this mainly as a sounding board for another fic I'm working on. This went in a completely different direction than that, and the characterization is a little off, but I like the way this turned out anyway.
> 
> This takes place during the Flowey resets, where Flowey was off experimenting somewhere else with someone else, so time was just repeating daily with no obvious external changes to the brothers' end of the Underground.

It has always been just you and Papyrus. You used to be really close. 

Not that you weren't close anymore! You still were. But back then, you were closer. You were…  _ equals _ . 

 

It hurts to think about. Papyrus is still your equal. He should be. He deserves to be. He deserves better, actually. But now, you don't know. It's different. You're different. And he's… not?

 

Part of you is conflicted on that one. He's the same. He's always the same. But there's some part of you, some part that hasn't been beaten down by apathy that thinks it's unfair to assume that your brother hasn't changed, because that comes with another assumption: that he can't change. 

 

_ Can he change? Do you want him to? _

 

You miss when time was linear. It was so exciting. The  _ world _ was so exciting. Wasn't it? In your eyes, you could see so many possibilities! There was so much hope! So much to learn! You were curious about all of it. 

That's why you became a scientist. You were curious. You wanted to understand the world. 

Now you do understand. Now you wish you didn't. Now you wish you were like Papyrus.

 

But is that fair? 

 

You haven't had a talk with Papyrus in a long, long time. Not really. You two used to discuss philosophy and hopes and dreams and the future all the time. God, the future was so bright back then. 

 

Papyrus had had his own view of the world. You two debated it a lot. You don't think about that too much anymore. He'd actually been better at debating than you. 

He pretty much always won.

 

You think of him as naive now. You know it isn't fair. It doesn't stop you from thinking that. 

Because he's naive, you imagine him falling apart if faced with your “reality.” The two can't be reconciled, so Papyrus must be wrong. It's not fair, if you think about it. Papyrus's beliefs were always stronger than yours. Papyrus was always braver than you. Steadier. You might just be projecting. Same as always, right? 

God, you're so unfair to him. 

 

You like to think that you're protecting him. Sometimes he asks if something feels off. If you're sure he hasn't met this person before. If you're getting that feeling of deja vu the same as he is. 

 

He's naive. You lie. He believes you. 

You know damn well that's unfair. 

 

You know you didn't always remember. You know you had those feelings. The only difference, the  **only** difference, was that you were aware that it wasn't just nothing. You were only aware because of your job. You were only aware because you were a few years older. 

That's the only difference, and you know it. A few years. Because had things stayed on trajectory, Papyrus would have been working right alongside you. 

You forget that a lot. Honestly you forget a lot from back then. You tell yourself it's because of all the resets, that it's been too long. You might be lying to yourself. If you are, you don't remember the actual cause. That bothers you. You avoid thinking about it. You've gotten good at that. 

 

It's unfair. 

 

Papyrus was so into science. His eyes would light up when you talked to him about your work. The technicals were a little too much for him, he was still a kid, but the theory, the broad strokes, the steps, the planning, he loved to hear about it. He understood perfectly. He had  **great** ideas.

 

God, Papyrus was so smart. 

**_He hasn't changed._ **

 

It hits you sometimes. Just how unfair you are to him. It's so easy to judge him, making the same mistakes, over and over and over again. You can see it. You know what happens next. 

But those are new mistakes for him. He doesn't know he's made them. He doesn't know the consequences. He hasn't lived it.

You have. 

 

You act like you know everything there is to know about Papyrus. But you are being  _ unfair _ .

 

The longer this goes on, the less you know him. Because all you know is a single day, on repeat, on a loop forever. You don't know what he was thinking yesterday. You don’t know what he might do if there's a tomorrow. Hell, sometimes he manages to surprise you  _ today _ . 

You're just an expert on a ridiculously small subject. You know how one day plays out and ignore that you forgot most of your childhood. You know that Papyrus is going to trip over a chair while making breakfast in the morning, so you think you know all there is to know about him. About everyone. About everything. 

You haven't even considered waking up early to push the chair in. It's your chair. Some past iteration of you was too lazy to push it in. That's not Papyrus's fault. If you're going to coddle him, you could at least stop his foot from hurting every morning. But you wouldn't want to miss your beauty sleep, would you? And you wouldn't be able to think to yourself “god did you trip over that chair again? When's he going to learn?”

 

One morning he does learn. 

You don't notice. 

 

You remember how Papyrus used to brag about how he was going to become a scientist someday. He had a plan. 

 

The future was so bright.

 

“You wanna be a scientist like me and ------, huh?”

(The memory is a bit fuzzy.)

"NO. I'M GOING TO BE SO MUCH **BETTER!** "

 

Pure  _ confidence _ . 

 

It's weird. Papyrus used to be almost arrogant. Actually, _that's_ unfair. He was really freaking arrogant. You used to get into fights with him over it. Don't pretend he didn't annoy the hell out of you sometimes. You forget all that a lot. He still calls himself great. He brags a lot. But when he was kid, he meant it. He doesn't anymore. He's not all that confident anymore. 

Man, when you think about it, the difference is startling. 

Sometimes he just looks like he feels so powerless. You do your very best to ignore it, because, well, it's true, isn't it? It just reinforces your point in your mind. He needs to be protected. It's unfair, because you aren't even curious why he feels that way. Why he changed. When.

You barely notice how unsure of himself he actually is. You used to, but it's pointless. You prop him up. You let him know he is great, because he is! But you don't bother talking to him about how self-conscious he seems to be underneath all the bluster. What's the point of helping him? He'll wake up just the same the next day. 

 

It's unfair. 

 

 

"I'M GOING TO BE A GREAT SCIENTIST SOMEDAY!"

One day, he stopped saying that. You actually forgot he liked science as much as you did. How'd you forget that? 

 

Sometimes he says weird things. One time, he says he doesn't know what a lab is. You should know that's not true. It's odd. Not convincing enough to be something he actually thinks. A joke, then, or a lie.  Weird, that's  _ your _ thing. 

Just like science, right?

 

You were a lot alike. 

 

Papyrus was an independent kid. Mature. Stubborn. He didn't like to stay in one place and neither did you, so when you did talk, they were big important talks. You both always learned a lot. About each other.

You haven't had one of those talks in a long, long time. 

Your memory gets fuzzy at some point. There's at least a year missing, you think. Maybe more. You generally avoid thinking about it. Papyrus changed a lot in that year. He never talked about becoming a scientist after that point. His new dream was the Royal Guard. (A dream every bit as intense and impossible. The future is never coming.) He got kind of needy. He suddenly wanted you to read him bedtime stories he'd claimed to grow out of years ago. He used to hug you like he thought it would be the last time. 

He still hugs you like that. In fact, he does it more now than before. 

 

That's weird. 

 

Some days you think he seems a bit more down than usual. You aren't even sure why. He's still bouncing off the walls with a kind of energy you can't imagine feeling anymore. You're probably just projecting again. How unfair. 

You try to protect him. 

His enthusiasm. His dreams. His hope. You can't have hope if there is literally no future. It's unfair, sure, but you're right on that. If he knew what you knew, if he knew there was no tomorrow, just today forever, he would lose hope. 

He would give up. 

Right?

 

You don't notice when he stops asking if things are familiar. The very last time he asked, you lied, and he gave you a long, hard look. 

He didn't believe you. 

You didn't notice. 

 

You've started eating his spaghetti without flinching. You don't notice that either. 

One day it's actually… pretty good?

You notice. 

 

It freaks you out. You try not to show it. He watches you, and you try not to notice. You realize you were probably just being unfair about the spaghetti. You underestimate him so much that you decided he was bad at it without giving him a chance. You're kind of a jerk, so that's a believable answer. 

 

One day you notice he's not as loud as you usually think he is. He doesn't trip over the chair. His spaghetti is really good. 

 

He can't change. Maybe you did. 

Maybe you're projecting. 

 

One day you're too tired to deal with anything. It's kind of amazing that this is the first time. How long did that take you? To finally give up? Only for a day, of course. (Why? Because you still have hope? This might still matter?)

 

You go into the secret room he doesn’t know about in the basement and stay there. 

 

Papyrus finds you. He looks… nervous. Of course he does. You didn't even make up an excuse before you ditched him.

 

He asks you what's wrong. 

You ask him how he found you. 

He looks  _ very  _ unimpressed.

Neither of you answer the question. 

 

You agree to go upstairs. He says he'll make dinner. 

He burns the spaghetti. He's never done that before? No, wait, he used to do that all the time, didn't he? Today? Or before? You aren't sure anymore. It's all blurring together. 

He apologizes and you go to Grillbys. Usually he'd tail after you an hour or so later, but he doesn't. Then again, this exact sequence never happened before. Because  _ you  _ changed it.

You wonder if it will happen again. 

You decide not to try. 

 

The next day, still today, he burns the spaghetti again. He wasn't paying attention. 

 

You wonder if your bad mood is rubbing off on him. Weird that you never considered that before. That's pretty unfair. He's not just a puppet. He's your  _ brother _ . Of course he's going to notice when you're off-script. You're a mess, and you expect him to ignore it. Because you think it doesn't matter what you do. 

You're starting to realize you might be wrong. 

 

You go to Grillbys. He asks if he can come.

You tell him no. 

You get drunk. You come home. He gets upset. What did you expect?

 

Another day, still today. You don't leave the couch. Breaking pattern was a mistake. You can't pick it back up again. You're too tired. 

Papyrus sits next to you. You both watch TV.

 

Wasn't today a day he worked?

No, he hasn't been working. Has he? He had been. 

 

Oh,  _wow_.

 

You remember all the times that he told you he would never take a vacation. All the times he'd lectured you about not working. About being lazy. About taking too many breaks. Now you're both on the couch, silent and slumped over watching what might as well be a rerun (but  _ is  _ a "new" episode) of Papyrus's favorite game show. He's not all that into it. 

Today was definitely a work day, you realize. He always used to record this. 

You decide not to ask. 

But you wonder about it. You're starting to realize just how much your mood must affect him. 

 

You feel guilty. 

You decide to put on a better performance next time. You shouldn't be giving up. You still need to protect him. Unfair as it is, dragging him down with you is worse. Even if he can't remember it. 

 

The next day, again, still today, you go down for breakfast and trip over your chair. Papyrus usually pushes it in, doesn't he?  **Wait** . What?

 

Papyrus is usually awake before you. 

He's not. 

 

Wait, does Papyrus even sleep? You aren't sure. 

You feel a dull panic. Part of you thinks you're overreacting, but he should be awake. 

 

You check on him. 

 

He's awake. He just… didn't get out of bed yet? That’s… not right. Weird. When you ask him to get up, he does, and resumes the same routine he always does with a smile. 

You congratulate yourself on being a good influence today. It's pretty unfair, considering how bad of one you’ve been.

 

But… Papyrus has never stayed in bed before.  **Never** . Again, you're pretty sure he doesn't sleep. You can't blame that on your mood. He didn't even see you yet this morning. Papyrus is having a bad day all on his own. 

You try to rationalize it. You're starting to worry. You're starting to panic. You decide maybe it's the deja vu. Maybe it's just a carry over from the previous day? Yeah. That makes some sense, you guess. That satisfies you. 

It's a pretty unfair conclusion. 

 

The next day you both go through the motions. He seems to be watching you closely, though. You're starting to worry again. 

 

You're starting to realize he's changed. His smile is strained. He looks as tired as you are. He's quiet. He's a little slow to react. 

You blame it on your mood. He's only different because you are. Right?

 

Right?

 

He makes the best damn spaghetti you've ever tasted for dinner. The perfect blend that can only come from intense practice. Trial and error. 

You're worried now. You don't know what to do. If he remembers… god, even if he  _ doesn't _ . You know now. He's capable of changing. 

_ He's changing.  _

He's changing and it's your fault. You didn't protect him. You've probably made it worse.  

 

Time passes and you make an effort go through the motions. You try to be cheerful, but that's not you, so you settle for funny. You know the jokes and puns he responds to the best, so you tell those. His groans become less pronounced each new-same day. 

You willfully refuse to notice. 

 

One day, still the same day as always, you go through the motions, but he doesn't. He just watches you. 

He looks so  **sad** . 

 

It's so unfair. 

 

Your brother is sad, and you're still looking for the catch. You're still trying to figure out a way to spin this. You're still trying to figure out the algorithm to fix it. But he's  **sad** . And he's not sad because you didn't get out of bed in the correct orientation or the right second or god knows what excuses you'll come up with next. He's sad because he's sad. Because he's been sad. Because he is sad. Because he's his own person, with his own problems.  

 

And unfair as it is, his problems are probably a lot more similar to yours than you would like to admit. 

 

You decide not to assume what his problem is. For once, it's not an attempt to ignore the obvious. You just realize it's unfair to keep assuming you understand your brother. 

You’ve proven that you don’t.

 

You ask him if he wants to go to Grillby’s.  He agrees.  You both drink in silence.

You decide it’s time to talk. The way you used to. Back when you still acted like his equal. Like his brother. 

 

You confess. 

He does too. 

 

He cries. You cry. You ask him if he's going to give up. You're so worried. 

But when he says no, you get… confused. How could he not, now that he knows? How can he not fall apart?

 

He tells you you're being unfair. 

 

You argue. Your philosophies are still so different. You debate. 

**He wins.**

He really hasn't changed. 

 

You wake up the next morning, still today, and you feel… you won't admit that it’s hope, but you feel much better. 

You missed him. You missed being equals.

**Author's Note:**

> That was my first fanfic I've written (and published) in 10 years! I could use the criticism if you have any. Also this was written on a phone, and while I reread and edited multiple times (over the course of a day), I've become blind to my most common correction errors, so if you catch any, lemme know.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
